


One step back

by AndromedaSmith



Series: Across Time [4]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Engagement, F/M, Long-Distance Relationship, Season 4 AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:02:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27195517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndromedaSmith/pseuds/AndromedaSmith
Summary: The next encounter for long-distance Karamel has Mon-El visiting Kara in the twenty-first century. As it turns out, he shows up just in time.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Mon-El
Series: Across Time [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1985263
Comments: 53
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

This time, Mon-El was awake when he fell to Earth.

A slight miscalculation by somebody at the Legion had the time portal’s window open up about 50 kilometres _above_ National City. The slight nausea that always came with time travel combined with the disorientation of tumbling in free-fall to nearly send him into superhero airsickness.

Was there some residual time dilation left over from the portal? The few seconds it took to activate his Legion ring felt like hours. Stopping his tumble and breathing deeply through his nose, Mon-El scoffed at himself.

_Throwing up on Kara._ That _would have been a dramatic superhero entrance_.

Orienting himself with a glance at the coastline below, Mon-El dove down through the atmosphere. It didn’t take long to reach terminal velocity, but flying this high up was always a bit tricky; in the low air pressure there wasn’t much stabilizing drag from his cape. 

_Oh, right._ The cape that he wasn’t wearing anyway since this was supposed to be an incognito visit. It took most of his concentration to keep from slipping back into the tumble, which at least meant he didn’t have time to be nervous about seeing Kara again. At that thought, his stomach clenched and he came closer to losing his lunch than before. Mon-El squeezed his eyes shut— _wait, no, bad idea_ —opened them again, gritted his teeth, and focused on the lights of National City below. 

_Her place or the DEO? What if she’d moved?_ he thought, inanely. He had stayed away from her place when he was last here, and when she’d briefly come to the future the topic hadn’t exactly come up. But this was about the two of them; the DEO didn’t feel like the right choice. 

Slowing his fall, Mon-El pulled the phone (well, a thirty-first century device that pretended to be an ancient cell phone) from his pocket and waited for it to pick up the local cell service. He sighed with relief when the date and time came up on the screen. _At least the Legion’s tech team got that right._

Mon-El located the right intersection in National City’s grid and let himself drop toward it. His heart sped up again. 

* * *

As she strode toward her apartment door, Kara’s brain was running in circles with the implications of the conversation she’d just had at CatCo. 

“No one would ever believe you’re an alien, Danvers,” Snapper had said. “You’ll have to use an image inducer, or find an alien partner, or something. Figure it out, ponytail.”

_Nia? But she didn’t look like an alien either. Brainy? Possibly a little too alien for this, and he was needed at the DEO besides._ Maybe J’onn could help her find someone.

Kara automatically unlocked the door and slipped inside. Motion caught her eye as she dropped her mail on the kitchen table. She looked up to see the curtain fluttering in the window. _What_? She usually left the window open, but she was _sure_ she’d closed it this morning against the afternoon’s predicted rainstorm.

The moonlight illuminated a form standing next to the window. She didn’t need to see the face to know who it was. Her heart leapt.

“Mon-El? What are you …?”

“I hope you don’t mind; I let myself in.” He walked slowly toward her, wincing as he realized the last time he’d said those words in this room. She was too busy gathering him in her arms to notice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You don’t really need to read the earlier works in this S4-canon-adjacent series to follow what’s going on here: the idea is that, after the Legion returns to the future, time travel is possible but only for small windows. So the restarted Karamel relationship is necessarily long-distance.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes catch up. Missions are planned.

The rainstorm lashed the windows and lit up the sky. Kara’s usual appetite had disappeared; Mon-El had politely refused her offer of dinner. They settled onto opposite ends of the couch. The loft felt cozy and warm and … just a bit strained.

Kara alternated between staring at Mon-El’s face and stroking his hand where it lay along the back of the couch in an effort to convince herself that he was really here. 

“Sorry I didn’t call first. Had to make a quick decision when the portal became available.” His eyes didn’t quite meet hers, but his voice was low and calm. 

_ How could he be calm? _ She forced herself to exhale slowly.

“You don’t have to call,” she replied. “I’m not even sure how you would.”

He took hold of her fingers where they rested on his hand and used one to gently tap on his Legion ring, raising his eyebrows and smirking ever so slightly.

“Oh. Right,” she smiled slightly. “You never showed me how it works, though.”

“Brainy would have.” 

She hadn’t asked. They’d never talked about Mon-El after he left. Until she got the message that he’d left behind for her, she’d just … tried to put him out of her mind. There hadn’t seemed to be much point in brooding. 

And then the second message had arrived and she’d gone through the time window and everything happened so fast. Forty-eight hours from out of her life to “I love you,” without much time to breathe. And then she’d stepped back through the portal once more without knowing when — or even if — she would see him again. 

Now… he was here. On her couch. It was exciting and terrifying and exhausting. 

“How long … has it been, for you?” she asked, biting her lip.

“Since you left?” She nodded. “About a month.”

Kara exhaled in relief, not knowing why it mattered so much that the same time had elapsed for both of them. “Same.”

“And how have you been?”

“Oh, the usual. A couple of incursions by Brainiac, nothing we couldn’t handle. Still no closer to figuring out how to defeat him. But hey, no more mysterious DNA-collecting spaceships. So there’s that,” he chuckled.

He grew quiet, first dropping his eyes to where his hand still rested on hers, then moving his gaze to her eyes; as his head lifted, silver glinted briefly from under the collar of his shirt.

Kara opened her mouth to say something else and closed it again, once more biting on her lip. He hadn’t let her hand go, but he hadn’t moved closer either.  _ Was he re-thinking what had happened between them? _ Mon-El seemed to sense her worry. He slid toward her and opened his arms.

“Kara. Come here.” And then she was snuggled against his chest with his cheek resting against her hair and the sound of his heartbeat in her ear. She let out a long breath.

“Better?” he asked, his arms still wrapped around her.

“Yeah,” she sighed and smiled up at him. “So…”

“So…” he returned.

She leaned back so she could see his face. “Since you didn’t call, are you going to tell me why you’re here? And for how long?”

He stroked her hair. “Well, to see you, of course,” he replied. She peered closely at his eyes, the set of his mouth. It looked like he was holding something back.

“And...?”

He sighed. “You’re right. There’s a mission.”

_ Of course there’s a mission. _

He continued: “but it shouldn’t take long. One day, max, and I’m here for a week. It’s not long enough, but then again we did pack a lot into two days, last time.” 

The chuckle that came out of her mouth sounded hollow to her, but he didn’t seem to notice as she replied. “That we did. Hopefully no abductions this time. What’s the mission?”

“Oh, you know. Time travel stuff, get person A to meet person B.” He waved his free hand vaguely. Thunder crashed outside. They both started.

“That’s … ambiguous. And ominous,” she gestured at the window.

He grimaced, scratching his beard. “Sorry. I hate keeping things from you, Kara, but if the whole business with Pestilence taught us anything, it’s that the less information that gets back to the past, the better. Spoilers.”

He looked so serious, so worried. Her stomach clenched in sympathy at the tension in his shoulders, his jaw. Not exactly the unalloyed joy at their reunion that she might have expected. Her thoughts tumbled.  _ Was it ridiculous to think this could somehow work? _

She was only partly listening as he continued, “Has to be undercover, too. No Legionnaires are supposed to be in this time. Except Brainy, of course.”

“Of course,” she replied automatically. Then an idea sparked, jolting her from her self-pitying reverie.

“Wait… undercover! Oh, this is perfect! You can help me with my assignment!” She broke into a wide smile while he began to frown, just a bit. She turned in his arms to look him straight in the eye, laughing. “I see what you’re thinking. Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure you’ll like this.”

“You remember I told you about the Children of Liberty and the rising anti-alien sentiment, right?” He nodded. “Snapper assigned me to do a story on cross-species marriages by going undercover at a retreat for engaged human-alien couples.”

“Oh... kay. But, um, we’re both aliens?” he looked confused.

“Nobody here knows you for one. Although,” she replied, slowly, “we maybe should have been a bit more careful about your identity when you were here with the Legion.”

He looked sheepish and lowered his eyes. “That’s not the only thing I would have done differently,” he muttered.

She reached out and lifted his chin. “Hey. You did the best you could, made the decisions you had to make. We can’t change the past.”

At that, his eyebrows rose and a smirk appeared on his face. 

“Okay, fine, maybe  _ you _ can. But it’s not necessarily a good idea, right?” The smirk changed to a smile of agreement and he nodded.

“So ... what do you say to the return of Mike Matthews?” 

His smile broadened, easing some of the worry lines across his forehead. “Sounds like it could be fun.”

She put a hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension lingering there. “I get the feeling you haven’t had much of that lately. You’ve changed so much from the Daxamite who dropped into my life a while back.”

“Yeah.” He ran a hand across his face. “I miss being that guy, sometimes.” 

Now it was her turn to wrap her arms around him and pull his head down to her shoulder. “I know,” she murmured.

She felt his breathing slow as she kissed the top of his head and breathed in his scent. Tightening her embrace, she tried to share the comfort she felt in his presence, let him know that whichever Mon-El he was, he was welcome. He let out a sigh and slipped an arm around her waist. She closed her eyes and held him close, just letting herself feel the comfort and the confusion, the happiness and the nagging worry.  _ None of this was going to be easy. _

A few minutes went by. The thunder and lightning outside had stopped; rain still lightly pattered at the windows. Kara opened her eyes.

“Mon-El?” Looking down her nose at him, she realized he was fast asleep.

_ Well, that was unexpected. _

Kara carefully slid out from under Mon-El’s suddenly dead weight, turning his body to lay him down lengthwise on the couch. A smile curved her lips at the sight of his peaceful face, long lashes dark against his skin, corners of his lips turned up in a slight smile. She bent down to kiss those lips, ran a thumb across one bearded cheek. He shifted slightly but didn’t wake.

She could leave him on the couch and cover him with a blanket, but he was really too tall to sleep on it comfortably. She pursed her lips and made a decision. Slipping an arm under his shoulders and another under his knees, Kara picked up her—now lightly snoring—Daxamite and carried him to bed.

* * *

The storm had blown out overnight. Morning light flooded the room.

Kara opened her eyes to find Mon-El propped up on one elbow beside her, gray eyes tracing her face.

“Good morning,” she greeted him, reaching over to place a hand on his arm.

He tucked a strand of hair back from her face. “Good morning yourself, beautiful.”

“Did you sleep well?” she asked, smiling.

“Better than I have in, um, centuries, I guess.” He arched his back and groaned. “But I don’t remember going to bed.” He skimmed his fingertips down her arm. She shivered.

His smile was sly and teasing and loving, all at once. “So, did we break out the secret stash of Aldebaran rum that I left here the first time?” 

“What stash? Um, nope,” she grinned back.

“Did I whisk you to bed and worship your body as it so richly deserves?”

“Nope,” she giggled, stroking his arm.

“Did you whisk me to bed and take advantage of me?” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Close. I did put you to bed, but after you fell asleep on the couch.”

He groaned and fell onto his back. “Time travel gets to me like that. Do not recommend.”

She rolled onto her side toward him, stifling her laughter long enough to gaze at him with concern and ask, “you sure you’re okay now?”

“Never better.” She snuggled up against him and his eyes widened as he realized that she was naked, wearing only the necklace he’d given her.

“Good.” She leaned over and pressed her lips to his, not last night’s gentle good night kiss but something needier, passionate. He responded immediately, opening his mouth and cupping the back of her neck to pull her face down to his. Their groans were simultaneous and hungry. With the hand that was trapped between them, he stroked her belly, then slid his arm around her back to pull her on top of him.

Breaking for air, breath heavy, they locked wide-eyed gazes. She rolled her hips against his and the answering rumble from his chest was so much more satisfying than last night’s thunder.

Her phone buzzed from the bedside table. Automatically she looked, and of course it was the DEO.

_ Not now, for Rao’s sake.  _ Kara let out a few Daxamite curse words that, until this very moment, she hadn’t even known she knew. She almost levitated off Mon-El, sped into her suit, and headed to wherever duty called. She didn’t look back.

* * *

One chemical-plant fire suppressed and several showers (to get the smell out of her hair) later, they sat at her kitchen table, polishing off breakfast. Mon-El had somehow managed to turn the three eggs, four slices of bread, and package of bacon that were the entire contents of her refrigerator into a delicious brunch.

Kara sipped her coffee and contemplated Mon-El’s profile as he looked out the window, his gaze unfocused. He’d kissed her when she returned, then wrinkled his nose and sent her off to shower while he cooked. He’d been quiet while they ate.

He turned to face her, running a knuckle along his jaw. He inhaled sharply.

“I, uh, didn’t get to offer to help, when you left,” he said. His eyes were dark.

“I thought you had to stay out of the spotlight on this trip.”

“I do, but I could have come along to back you up,” he replied. 

She frowned. “You wouldn’t let me help when I was at the Legion.”

“That was different, Kara. The timeline—”

She felt her temperature begin to rise.

“—and what happens to the timeline if something happens to you here?” she shot back.

His jaw tightened and she could see him bite back a reply. The sight brought her up short.  _ Their time together was going to be brief enough.. _

She took a deep breath, released it. “I left without saying goodbye. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”

“I get it. I just dropped in on you and it’s not like you’ve had much chance to get used to this whole business.” He pushed his chair back and scooted it closer to hers.

“Yeah, not used to sleeping with someone who can be my backup. Or with anyone, for that matter,” she smiled.

He nodded and wrapped an arm around her.

“Worrying about each other is hard. But we’re gonna have to get used to that too.” His voice was low, a little rough.

She sighed. “I’ll try.”

“Me too.” He squeezed her shoulder and she leaned into him. They sat quietly for a few moments.

He turned her to face him, kissed her lightly, let her go.

“So, we have an undercover mission to plan, right? Just to review: I’m Mike Matthews, human, you’re — what’s your name? — my alien fiancée.”

“Right. I’m … Amira Lon. A Valerian from Starhaven. I’ll have to get an image inducer. Wait, do those work for Valerians? Someone at the DEO will know. Oh, and I guess I need to let them know I’ll be unavailable and...”

“Good choice. You’ll make a cute Valerian,” he interrupted.

“Thanks. We can work out the backstory details later. Probably the most important one is the engagement story, though. Best to keep it simple.” She was babbling, knew she was, but the words just kept tumbling out.

“We were having brunch at my place and …” She took his hand and locked eyes with him. “Mike Matthews, will you marry me?”

For a moment, she was lost in his gaze.

“Yes.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Close encounters of the engaged kind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who even remember Chapters 1 & 2: thanks for coming back and for your patience with the long wait. The complete work is drafted and the lovely karxmels assures me that it’s not completely ridiculous (huge thanks!) so future updates should be more frequent.

He should have known better than to think he could have predicted how this visit would go. He could plan battle tactics or choreograph a diplomatic encounter with the best of them, but no plans survive an encounter with the unstoppable force that is Kara Zor-El with a mission and a head of steam.

So Mon-El of the Legion of Super-Heroes found himself sitting on an ordinary twenty-first century bus next to a certain Kryptonian disguised as a Valerian. Kara had wanted them to be on their own, to have some time together. The mountain location of the retreat center had no cell phone coverage and she had let the DEO know she was unavailable for anything except planet-busting emergencies. She’d even packed her suit rather than wearing it under her clothes, not that he had been trying to check out her cleavage or anything. Just the two of them ... and about forty other people.

The bus winding its way up the mountain road was nearly full. The couples occupying almost every pair of seats included a variety of species and genders; in some cases both were apparently human, but he saw Dryads, Brevakks, and even an Aquarian. Many looked relieved, as if they were finally out from under never-ending scrutiny.

Mon-El’s gaze returned to Kara, who was chatting with the couple sitting in front of them. She gave them her full attention, showing her ability to not just listen to people but to really hear their stories. A spasm of annoyance crossed his face: they had so little time and yet he had to share her with others. And then figure out how to complete his own mission.

He berated himself for being so selfish. _She has her own life. It’s not like you let her know you were going to show up, on a mission no less._

The human half of the couple, a compact woman with a halo of dark hair, said something funny and Kara — _Amira_ , he reminded himself — laughed. Even with the voice modulator, he’d know that laugh anywhere. He squeezed her hand and she turned to give him a grin that didn’t quite fit on her Valerian face. The annoyed expression disappeared as an answering grin spread across his own face.

“This is my fiancé, Mike,” she introduced him. He offered his hand to the woman over the back of the bus seat. 

“Nice to meet you. I’m Letitia, and this is Brian.” The woman indicated the blue-skinned humanoid sitting next to her. 

“Not my original name, obviously,” the man laughed.

Mon-El struggled to stifle a groan at the sight of the alien he’d met in his second Earth job, when the man fell behind in repaying his bookie. From the warning squeeze Kara gave his hand, she obviously recognized Brian too. Her grip was strong and he just barely kept himself from wincing. 

“So, how did you two meet?” Brian queried.

Mon-El and Kara looked at each other, clearly both thinking _Maybe we should have spent a little more time on the backstory..._

“I, uh, just sort of fell into her life a couple of years back,” Mon-El began.

“We met at work,” Kara spoke over him.

“Oh? What do you do?” Letitia asked.

“Bartender.” “Government agency,” were their simultaneous replies. Kara kicked Mon-El’s ankle none-too-gently. He shut up to let her take the lead.

“I’m a writer,” she said in her disguised voice. “Mike works for the IRS. We met when I was being audited. That wasn’t much fun, but something good came out of it. What about you—what do you do?”

Letitia was a music teacher. Brian described his work as being “in financial services.” When he started to pepper Mon-El with tax questions, Mon-El started to fiddle with his glasses and then smoothly (he hoped) changed the subject. 

“So, what brings you here? I mean, to this retreat?” 

Letitia pursed her lips thoughtfully, looking at her partner. “We mostly wanted to meet other couples like us, find out how they cope with the harassment and prejudice, maybe get some strategies for dealing with my family.”

“Not so supportive?” Kara asked.

“Not so much,” Letitia replied. “I was supposed to marry a nice boy from the neighbourhood, have kids, carry on the family traditions.”

“Tell me about it,” Mon-El groaned sympathetically. Kara shot him a warning look.

“You were supposed to marry a nice boy from the neighbourhood too?” Brian asked.

“No, not exactly, I mean…” Mon-El took off his glasses and rubbed his temples. “Parental expectations can be a heavy load to carry.”

All four of them agreed on that.

“And you?” Letitia asked, directing the question to both himself and Kara. “What brings you to this glamourous bus ride?”

“Oh, you know, trying to get a different perspective,” Kara said, lightly. “I haven’t been on Earth that long. My social circle here is just a few aliens. Mike hasn’t been in National City that long either, so he doesn’t know a lot of people, human or alien. Meeting more people who are straddling those two worlds can only help. I mean, we’re planning our lives together,” she directed a smile at Mon-El, “and I just want to understand the context, how we can expect things to go.”

He tried to keep the amazement off his face: he knew she was a good writer, but as a journalist her job was to tell the truth, write about events that really happened. Yet she was so convincing about this life she was inventing right in front of him. _But then, she’s had a lot of practice._ He hadn’t been exaggerating when he told her on Argo that being a hero without a secret identity was exhausting. Living that double life, every day...

He tried to pick up her story and continue. “Yeah, it’s all about perspective. I mean, I don’t know what it’s like to be K... _Amira_ , and I never will, exactly. But grasping her perspective will hopefully help me be a better partner.” He shot a sideways glance at her, hoping that she realized this was Mon-El talking to Kara and not just Mike talking to Amira.

“Sounds to me like you’re off to a pretty good start,” Letitia said, watching him look at Kara. He nodded as his heart skipped a beat and his mouth went dry.

Kara squeezed his hand again, and this time it was gentle instead of just this side of painful. The motion of the bus, previously annoyingly bumpy, became soothing and relaxing. He leaned against the window and drifted off. 

The next thing he knew, it was starting to get dark outside and he was waking up with his head on Kara’s shoulder. She was listening, apparently fascinated, to Brian’s description of his encounters with Supergirl. To hear his story, she had saved his bacon during an alley meet-up with an alien enforcer and Brian had subsequently returned the favour several times. Mon-El winced at the reminder of the first part of the story. He wasn’t so sure about the later parts.

“Wow. You’re so lucky. Meeting National City’s most famous alien, and more than once,” Kara said.

“I know. And if it wasn’t for her, I might not have turned things around,” Brian responded. Mon-El glanced at Kara to see her struggling not to smile.

“She hasn’t been seen around as much lately,” Mon-El mused. “Wonder why?” Kara elbowed him.

“Maybe… she’s got a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend,” Kara suggested. Mon-El kicked her ankle. 

“Huh. Never thought of that,” Brian replied. “Lucky guy. Or girl.”

“Supergirl’s got a big job, keeping National City safe all on her own. And trying to live up to her cousin’s reputation. I wonder if it gets lonely?” Mon-El mused.

“Hey, I heard she’s actually stronger than Superman,” Kara responded. “But yeah, I bet it must be lonely. I can’t imagine being one of the only survivors of your whole planet.”

“There was that guy with the blue cape who was seen with her for a while; I wonder what happened to him?” Brian replied. 

“Maybe she didn’t want to have to depend on a man to look after her,” Mon-El suggested as Kara elbowed him.

“Need isn’t everything,” Brian said. “I wonder what a superhero _wants_?”

“Good question,” Kara said. Mon-El wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him and he thought he might have an inkling of the answer to Brian’s question.

The bus turned off the highway and onto a twisting secondary road. Before long it made another turn onto a gravel driveway.

Mon-El watched Brian turn to Letitia, who looked to have also had a bus nap. Brian’s facial expressions were a little difficult to decipher but the affection was obvious in his gentle touch as he shook his partner awake. She blinked. “Mmmm. Guess I must have dozed off. Are we here?”

“Looks like,” Mon-El replied. Kara had turned around to chat with the couple sitting behind them: a tall, pale human female and an even taller and paler humanoid female from a species he didn’t recognize. Both were older than most of the other people on the bus and, from the conversation he could overhear, were doctors who had met at an alien refugee processing center. He touched her shoulder to get her attention. “Amira... we’re here.”

She turned back to him and even through the image inducer he imagined that he could see the brilliance of her smile. She leaned over and kissed him quickly, and _that_ was strange. His eyes saw a Valerian’s face but his skin felt only the sensation he was still relearning, of Kara’s lips against his. They both sighed a little.

An older human man had boarded the bus when it stopped and was making an announcement. “Welcome, everyone, to the Mount Hope Retreat Center. We’re glad you’re here and we hope you’ll find this weekend enlightening. This is a safe place for you to explore and deepen your relationships. If you feel comfortable doing so, we encourage those of you who use image inducers to turn them off. No one will judge you here. And if you aren’t comfortable, no one will judge you for that either.” His voice was calming, gentle, reassuring.

The buzz of a handful of image inducers deactivating filled the sudden quiet on the bus. The passengers looked around, curious. Several new aliens had appeared in their midst, including two who seemed to be from the same species to judge from how they were gesturing at each other across the aisle.

The man looked pleased. “And now for the really important information. Dinner will be in the dining hall in about an hour, so you have time to find your cabins and get settled. After you’ve grabbed your luggage, please check with me to get your cabin assignment.”

Mon-El and Kara followed Letitia and Brian off the bus to the sound of the passengers’ _ooh_ s and _aah_ s at the beauty of the mountain surroundings. The center’s rustic study buildings — several large structures surrounded by smaller, more widely separated cabins — were dark shapes in the waning light.

Kara went with some of the others around the side of the bus to retrieve their luggage. She returned carrying both suitcases as if they were grocery bags: her Valerian disguise meant she didn’t have to hide her Kryptonian strength quite as much as usual. She made a move to toss one suitcase at him, stopping at the last moment as she apparently remembered that he was supposed to be human.

The last few couples straggled off the bus and Mon-El heard high-pitched laughter that sounded vaguely familiar. He turned to see a head of curly blonde hair that was _definitely_ familiar. Beside him, Kara’s mouth dropped open (which, on a Valerian, looked kind of ridiculous). She recovered quickly and kept her face neutral as a human woman bounded up to them.

“Mike!”

“Eve?!”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mission collisions.

Kara watched the color drain from Mon-El’s face as he stared at her co-worker. He swallowed hard and somehow found his voice.

“Uh, gosh, it’s good to see you. It’s, uh, been a while.” 

Eve drew him into a brief hug. “What a surprise! When did you get back to National City? I heard you’d taken a job in Europe? Does Kara know you’re back?”

“I, uh, I’ve been back for a few months now. Yeah, I’ve seen Kara a couple times, but—“

She interrupted him, “—are you all right? You look tired. And … older, somehow.”

“I get that a lot. I think it’s the beard.” He scratched his chin.

“Looks good on you.”

“Thanks. You look great too. I mean, not that you have a beard. But you look great.” Mon-El looked down at his feet.

Kara decided it was time to rescue him. She dropped the suitcases and nudged him. “Sweetie, aren’t you going to introduce us?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Eve, this is my fiancée, Amira Lon. Amira, this is Eve Teschmacher.”

Kara put her hand out for Eve to shake.

“Nice to meet you, Eve.”

“Likewise.” Eve’s voice was polite and ever-so-slightly sceptical. She looked back and forth between Mon-El and Kara.

“So, how do you two know each other?” Kara asked.

“I work at CatCo and Mike interned there a couple of years ago,” Eve replied.

Kara shot her best accusing look at Mon-El. “CatCo? I love that magazine! You never told me you worked there!”

“Not for very long. Didn’t, uh, suit me.”

“It can be a high-pressure place. It’s not for everyone,” Eve agreed. 

Mon-El attempted to change the subject. “So, what brings you here, Eve?”

“That would be my fiancé, Xiv,” Eve pointed at an Altainian male who was chatting with the retreat director. “We just got engaged and he thought this would be good for us.” She giggled. “I still can’t quite believe I’m marrying an alien.”

Eve’s laugh was infectious and Kara had to resist the urge to giggle right along with her. She was helped by looking over at Mon-El, whose face had turned suddenly grim. She rested a hand on his shoulder.

“Mike, are you feeling okay?”

He rubbed his temples. “A little queasy. Never did like bus rides.”

“Let’s get you to the cabin then,” Kara said. She turned to Eve. “Nice meeting you. See you at dinner?”

Eve nodded and left them to join her fiancé. Kara retrieved their own cabin assignment from the director then returned to Mon-El’s side to pick up their suitcases. She began to walk toward one of the more distant cabins and he fell into step at her side.

Once they were alone, she murmured, “So what was that all about?” 

“What do you mean?” He kept his reply below human hearing levels.

“I’ve seen you face much scarier people than Eve and not look so freaked out.”

“It’s just weird. I mean, I’m here with my ‘fiancée’” — he air-quoted the words and Kara felt her stomach flutter — “and I immediately run into the first person on this planet that I ... uh…” His voice trailed off.

Kara didn’t respond. Eventually he raised his head to look at her and she grinned at him.

“What, you thought I would be mad?” She laughed. “Come on, give me more credit than that.”

He exhaled in relief. “You don’t think it’s a weird coincidence?”

“Of course it’s weird. But that’s our lives. Other people’s weird is our Tuesday,” she chuckled.

“Is this going to cause problems, do you think? Will Eve expect to see me around National City from now on? Will she wonder what happened with us? With me and Kara, I mean?” He rubbed his forehead again, as if he really was getting a headache.

Kara laughed again. “We’re just here for the weekend. You won’t have to see her again. Try to relax.”

They reached their cabin. When the door was closed and the blinds pulled, Kara de-activated her image inducer. She was rewarded with Mon-El’s grin at the sight of her true face as he pulled her close.

She wrapped her arms around his neck while he nuzzled her temple. “I was right. You are a cute Valerian. But I like this face better,” he murmured into her ear.

She carefully removed his glasses and stroked one bearded cheek. “Mmm. Mike is pretty cute too, but I don’t think the beard suits him as well as it does you.”

“Glad you like.”

She dove in to kiss him. He pulled away to regard her, semi-seriously. “So we didn’t really have time for a pre-mission briefing.” She made a face at this. “What do engaged couples do at a retreat, exactly?”

She rolled her eyes. “If you had super-hearing right now you wouldn’t need to ask.” 

“Ah,” he nodded. “And since we are just pretending to be engaged, does that mean we should, um, just pretend?”

“No, I think we need to do the best possible job of maintaining our cover. Besides, I need a distraction from the background noise.”

“If you say so.” He started kissing his way down her neck in earnest. “Just try not to be too loud, or, you know, break the bed.”

“Who, me? I can float, you know,” she scoffed.

“Mmm-hmm,” he smirked. “Let’s see if I can convince you to be loud.”

She took in a breath to respond and he smothered her reply with another kiss. He swallowed a groan as she tackled him down onto the narrow bed.

* * *

Dinner was a cheerful affair, served family-style at long communal tables. Kara introduced Letitia to Eve and was pleased to see two women hit it off immediately. Letitia related hilarious tales of cross-cultural adaptations, from guest lists to menu planning, as Eve’s trademark giggle rang through the room. They didn’t need any help to keep the conversation going. Kara contributed the occasional question or comment while concentrating on mentally filing the stories away for her article.

It looked like Mon-El’s attempts to converse with Eve’s fiancé were less successful. It was easy to see who did the talking in that relationship: the man hardly said a word over dinner. Xiv’s attention seemed to be occupied with scanning the room, a kind of scan that Kara had done herself on missions when mapping out escape routes and lines of fire. 

The two doctors Kara had met on the bus were table-hopping, apparently trying to meet as many of the other couples as they could. They eventually ended up chatting with Mon-El. Or to him, rather — they were so involved in telling the story of how they’d decided to get married that they kept interrupting one another and didn’t notice that Mike Matthews, tax agent, didn’t have much to say. Or maybe his cover job was just boring enough that no one wanted to know more about it. Kara felt a pang of guilt at having dragged him along on a trip that must be so incredibly boring for him.

She clasped Mon-El’s hand across the table and squeezed gently, catching his eye to give him a grateful smile. The affection in the smile he returned let a warmth spread through her chest. Behind his glasses, Mon-El’s eyes were slightly unfocused. He was distracted by something, maybe just the effort of being Mike Matthews after so long.

Over dessert, Eve looked at where Mon-El’s and Kara’s hands were joined, his Legion ring glinting.

“Is that a new ring, Mike? I don’t remember seeing it when I knew you before.” 

Valerians didn’t panic. The image inducer camouflaged Kara’s expression. But she shouldn’t have worried; Mon-El had her back. He squeezed Kara’s hand.

“Just got it recently, at my college reunion. Langara College, home of the Comets.”

Kara picked up on his improvisation, bringing her other hand above the table sporting her matching ring. “He got me my own. I mean, I didn’t go to college on Earth. But we thought we’d make our own version of the engagement ring tradition.” He smiled at him and she couldn’t help grinning back. There might be something to this undercover business, if it let her look at him like a lovesick teenager, without worrying about the consequences. 

Eve didn’t look completely convinced, but Kara smoothly deflected the conversation to inquire about how Eve and Xiv had met. It didn’t take a lot to start Eve talking about meeting her fiancé in their astronomy club and how exciting it was to have friends who had actually visited some of those star systems. The Altainian was drawn into the conversation, contributing obscure astronomical facts to the discussion. 

The evening wound down with hot cider and a brief icebreaker activity to introduce more of the participants to each other. Kara surveyed the couples in the room, mentally cataloguing who she might want to talk with tomorrow. The doctors seemed to have an interesting story, although she’d heard most of it through their conversation with Mon-El. She wondered about the giant Durlan and their tiny human partner: surely their size difference was only one of many chasms between them. 

Kara and Mon-El said good night to their new acquaintances and left the dining hall. 

“A little evening stroll?” he asked as they stepped outside.

She smiled. “I’d like that.”

They ambled along the path that circled around the perimeter of the cabins. The warmth of Mon-El’s hand in hers and his presence beside her were so soothing. She squeezed his hand.

“Listen, I know this wasn’t what you expected for this week. You must be so bored. Thanks for being so willing to help me out.”

His smile was briefly … _sad_? ... but his grey eyes were warm, with no hint of the distraction she’d seen in them earlier.

“Of course. I didn’t exactly give you any warning that I was coming, so it’s the least I can do. Maybe now you can give me that briefing, remind me what I should do to help?”

Kara’s enthusiastic explanation of the National City alien situation, the Children of Liberty, and the nature of journalistic deep background saw them all the way back to their cabin. She looked over to see Mon-El regarding her with an expression that mixed affection with apprehension.

They stepped inside and Kara deactivated the image inducer again. It was silly, but she felt like now she could see _him_ , rather than the reverse. She sat down on the room’s small sofa and patted the spot beside her.

“I’m sorry, I went on and on. You look like something’s on your mind. Talk to me.”

He slumped down next to her. “Just ... pondering something about my mission.”

It was her turn for a sad smile. Too many secrets. He noticed her expression.

“Kara, I’m sorry. I hate keeping secrets from you.”

“Hey.” She took his hands. “I know that protecting the timeline is a big deal. Maybe I can’t help with your mission. But maybe I can. And you can trust me. I’ve been to the future, remember? And I didn’t mess anything up when I came back.”

“Of course I trust you. You haven’t messed up the timeline, but I can’t say the same. And I don’t think you can help with this.”

She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his neck.

“Okay, let’s drop it for now. Do one thing for me?” She looked up and he nodded.

“Sleep on it. In the morning, revisit the idea of telling me what’s going on. If you decide not to, I won’t mention it again. Okay?”

“Okay.” He leaned in to kiss her. “But who said anything about sleep?” 

* * *

Kara woke to find the other half of the bed empty and Mon-El gone from the cabin. Before, she had been the early riser: so many changes in those years of his life that she’d missed. The pain of that loss ached briefly until she reminded herself that he was here _now_. As she stretched and yawned, the door opened and Mon-El’s form was briefly silhouetted in the morning light. She smiled at the sight of his broad shoulders and tousled hair.

He crossed the room and sat down on the bed. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

She sat up and he reached over to brush her hair back from her face. 

“Hi. Couldn’t sleep?” she yawned.

“Yeah. Thinking.” 

He lowered his eyes away from hers. She grasped his chin and turned his face toward hers, then leaned forward to place a brief peck on his lips. He looked so serious, so careworn.

“What about? Your mission?”

He nodded, lowering his gaze back to his lap. Took a deep breath.

“I think you’re right, it’s better if I tell you. But you’re not going to like it.”

Unease passed through her chest. She tried to cover it up with a joke.

“What, are you here to assassinate someone?”

“No.” He shook his head. “But I have to convince Eve to break her engagement.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The real Langara College is in Vancouver, where Supergirl films; their sports teams are not called the Comets, but they should be. Your author did not attend Langara, but did meet her spouse in a college astronomy club.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The retreat gets shaken up.

_That went about as well as I expected._ Kara’s expression was a mixture of anger and disbelief. Mon-El could hardly blame her. 

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m sorry, Kara. It’s not a joke. I knew you wouldn’t like it.” 

“Why? How did you know she would be here? You didn’t even know _you_ were going to be here!”

Her eyes flashed in fury and she backed away from him, pulling the blankets up to her chin.

“Or did you? Was this visit all a set-up? You knew I was going to be here and showed up just in time?”

“Kara, no. This” — he waved around them — “was a total coincidence.” 

“You expect me to believe that?”

“I know how it looks. But I’m telling you the truth.”

She took a deep breath, let it out slowly. The tension in her shoulders relaxed, just a bit. “Go on.” 

He scratched his jaw. “When I was here with the Legion, do you remember us mentioning the extinction event in 2455?”

She nodded.

“A few weeks ago, in the 31st century, I mean, entire species started disappearing. We realized that the timeline had somehow been altered.”

He stood up to pace the small room, ran a hand through his hair.

“We traced the problem to this time. One of Eve’s descendants was supposed to play an important role in the 2455 mass extinction remediation and somehow that person no longer existed. My mission was to figure out why, and fix it.”

The disbelief was back on Kara’s face, the scowl on her face contrasting with the halo from the morning light striking her hair.

“ _Eve’s_ descendants? A woman who just happens to have the same name as the mother of humanity in major Earth religions?” Her voice rose.

“I know, it sounds crazy. Time travel often is.” He rubbed his forehead with the pads of his fingers.

“But why does she have to break off the engagement?”

“The historical records have some gaps, but they’re clear that the relevant person was descended from Eve via a child born about a year from now. And she’s not going to have descendants if she marries Xiv.”

Kara shook her head. “That’s ridiculous. What about adoption? Fertility treatments?”

He shook his head. “The records say this person was the genetic descendent of Eve and her spouse. I’m not happy about this either. I know what it’s like to have no control over your marriage.” He winced at this. “Meddling in someone else’s doesn’t sit well with me. But this is fixing the timeline, not breaking it.”

“There has to be another way. Destroying someone’s happiness… it’s not right.”

“I’m sorry, Kara. If there’s another way, I don’t know what it is. And I don’t have a lot of time.”

“I’m not going to help you with this.” Her mouth set in a hard line. His stomach clenched, his body rebelling against saying no to her, being at odds with her.

“I’m not expecting you to. I know Eve is your friend. She’s mine too… or, she was.” His voice lowered. “It’s my mission, my responsibility. I’m just asking that you let me carry it out.”

“I can’t promise that.” There was steel in her gaze and an uncomfortable silence between them. He didn’t flinch, didn’t look away, but his heart pounded and he knew she could hear it. Disappointing her — another thing he should have planned for.

Kara finally broke the silence after looking over at the small clock on the bedside table. “Yikes. It’s almost time for breakfast.” He couldn’t help but smile at that. This evidently wasn’t enough of a crisis to get between Kara and food. He sat back down at the end of the bed.

“Listen,” she said. The smile dropped from his face, but it almost came back as she reached out to touch his hand. “You’ve got a little extra time. You weren’t expecting to get to the mission until after we got back from this weekend.” He nodded slowly. “Can you just wait a bit before you do anything? Let’s see if we can find another way.”

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Okay. Thanks, Kara.” 

Her brows were still furrowed and she wasn’t returning his smile. But she was still talking to him. Maybe he hadn’t completely botched this. Yet.

* * *

Compared to dinner, breakfast was a disappointment. The coffee was good. But the rubbery eggs and dry, crumbling toast didn’t provide much of a distraction from the weirdly-uncomfortable situation: sharing their made-up engagement story and pretending that nothing was wrong.

Kara might be unhappy with him but she didn’t let it show. “He is the best breakfast cook ever. We, um, had a bit of a rough patch early on and soon after we got back together I woke up one morning and he had made this beautiful meal and said he wanted to fill every moment with joy.”

He did his best to reciprocate. “You deserve it, babe.” 

And she did. She didn’t deserve to be in the midst of his mission while she was trying to carry out her own. She didn’t deserve to have to make the choices she’d had to make… He stopped woolgathering to focus on what Kara was saying.

“And when we got engaged it was another brunch at my place. We were at the table just like this and I was just so happy and I blurted out ‘marry me’ and ... here we are.” She beamed at him. He gave back the best grin he could manage.

“That’s so sweet, Amira,” grunted the Durlan sitting next to her. Their species looked like the last that you’d ever expect to be sentimental. _A good reminder to not judge by appearances._

The Durlan was beginning to relay the story of their own engagement to the tiny, freckled human snuggled into their side when the retreat director rapped a spoon against a coffee mug for attention. A few humans in the room explained the cutlery tapping — and the association with weddings — to their partners.

“Good morning everyone. We’ll be starting off this morning with group discussion sessions: humans in the lodge, non-humans here in the dining hall. Then we’ll move to a large-group social event, and after lunch to smaller groups with your partners. Before dinner you’ll be on your own to reconnect with your partners and discuss what you’ve learned. After dinner we’ll have a game night, for those of you who are interested.”

Dishes were piled on trays and returned to the dishwashing line as a parade of couples said temporary goodbyes. Carrying his and Kara’s trays, Mon-El noticed the alien half of the doctor couple bend to whisper in her partner’s ear. The human doctor’s eyes widened and she whispered something back. 

Kara turned from talking to Brian as Mon-El returned to wrap his arm around her. She tensed against him and his heart sank. He spoke so only she could hear.

“I’m going to talk with Eve, to see what I can find out about her fiancé. I won’t do anything more.”

She nodded. Was he imagining the disapproving expression on her face? With the image inducer it was hard to tell.

“Okay, so humans to the lodge, aliens here...” She started to head toward the door. He called after her.

“Amira…”

“Right.” She turned around as he headed for the door.

Mon-El didn’t have to go looking for Eve; she buttonholed him on the short walk to the lodge. “I have to say, Mike, I was pretty surprised when you left Kara. You two seemed so perfect for each other. I know she was devastated when you left. Then she seemed to be a little happier for a while, but lately she’s been so ... quiet again. I just wish I knew how to help her.”

He scratched his jaw. “Um, Eve, this is maybe not the place to bring up Kara. And if you don’t mind, please don’t mention Amira to her. I’ll tell her myself.”

“Of course, you’re right. Amira is very nice. You two seem very happy together.”

“We are,” he agreed. “She cares for everyone, she has such a big heart — well, two big hearts since she’s a Valerian — and she’s so brave and … inspiring.” He was letting his mouth run away. He forced himself to shut up.

“Sounds like someone else I know,” Eve said. She was peering intently at him. 

Unnerved by the close attention, he turned away from her gaze and changed the subject.

“But I want to hear your story. You said you met Xiv in your astronomy club, and it seems like things happened pretty quickly after that?”

“Oh yes,” Eve bubbled. “We just hit it off. He’s so smart and thoughtful and funny, and he really gets me, you know? Like he just seems to know me.”

“And do you feel like you know him that well too?”

“Not yet. But, you know, he’s an alien so there’s a lot more to learn.”

“And getting married seemed like the best way to do that?”

“No-oh, now that you put it that way, that sounds like a terrible idea. But he was also having immigration issues and getting married will help with that.” 

Eve sounded a bit sheepish at this admission.

“You know you can get in trouble for that. There are tax implications too.” _What did he know about aliens and taxes?_ Nothing, but Eve didn’t know that.

Eve’s expression turned serious, a rarity for her. She had nothing more to say as they reached the lodge and stepped inside.

* * *

A tall, strongly-built woman who Mon-El didn’t recognize from last night’s dinner convened the humans ( _and at least one pretend-human_ ) in the lodge’s cozy living room. 

The session that followed was surprisingly interesting. Mon-El thought he’d been on Earth long enough to understand the place, and that might have been true for thirty-first century Earth — but not for the twenty-first. During his earlier stays here he’d been paying more attention to either his personal problems or the planet-threatening kind. The discussion made it clear that there were many everyday issues faced by aliens on Earth and their human partners.

He did his best to remember the details so that he could talk about them with Kara later. Assuming she still wanted to talk to him, wanted his help with her mission.

Concentrating made his shoulder hunch and his back ache, and it didn’t help that Eve seemed to be paying more attention to him than she was to most of the other humans. He hoped it was just the uncomfortable memory of their copy-room encounter and not something else. 

The facilitator brought the discussion to a graceful close. “Thanks, everyone. That was great: you all did very well at examining some of your own cultural assumptions and putting yourself in another’s shoes. You’ll find snacks and coffee over on the side table, and your partners should be arriving shortly from the dining hall.”

The participants stood up and stretched, laughing and chatting with those nearby. It took a moment for them to realize that the creaking sounds they heard weren’t just from their chairs scraping on the floor, but from the building itself. The hanging lamps began to sway, followed by the rattling of picture frames on the wall.

“Earthquake!” Eve screamed. She dove under the ping-pong table, dragging Mon-El with her. The shaking intensified. Eve surprised him: after that initial scream, he had thought she would panic, but she was calm and alert. She still had an iron grip on his arm; for a human, she was pretty strong. He had to figure out how to get her to release it so he could discreetly make sure everyone else was okay. 

“Eve! You’re safe, you can let go.”

He pried her hand loose and she turned her head to look at him. She stared at him and he realized that his glasses had fallen off in the confusion.

“It _is_ you!”

“Yes, it’s me, Mike. Are you okay?” he repeated. 

“Not Mike. You’re _him_.” Recognition dawned in her eyes. The hair on the back of his neck rose. 

“Him who? Eve, are you sure you’re okay? Did you hit your head?”

“The guy who was with Supergirl… last year, with all the earthquakes and the tidal wave and …”

_Oh no…_

“Eve, there’s a complicated explanation. Trust me, okay?” Eve looked into his eyes and nodded. She crouched down further and covered her head. He sped out from under the table and surveyed the room. The others had taken appropriate cover: residents of National City were familiar enough with earthquakes and no one appeared to be in imminent danger. He caught a precariously hanging lamp and repositioned a few tables to better protect those crouching under them. He returned to his position next to Eve as an aftershock rippled through the room.

She handed him his glasses and he slipped them on. 

“Thanks.”

“We’re going to talk about this later, right?” she stage-whispered.

He sighed. “Yeah.”

Eve raised her voice and called out, “Everyone okay? Does anyone need help?”

Voices came from around the room: “We’re fine here.” “Okay.” “Nngh… my wrist.”

People crawled out from under tables and unfolded themselves from doorway crouches. Most were uninjured, but everyone looked rattled. The session facilitator tended to the man with the injured wrist — the human half of the doctor couple had been at the session but was nowhere to be found — and pronounced it a sprain rather than anything more serious.

Worried faces appeared in the doorway: the aliens had arrived from the dining hall. The humans met up with their partners and most of the couples opted to go outside and reassure each other that they were okay. Letitia sat down at the piano to play a cheerful tune; Brian sat near her and hummed along.

Mon-El headed outside in search of Kara. He spotted her at the back of the crowd of reuniting couples, looking like she wanted to lift off the ground. Which she probably did. Her occasional nightmares about the earthquakes during the last days of Krypton had sometimes led to bouts of sleep-flying as she sought to escape. 

She still looked uncomfortable as he approached her, but she let him fold her into his arms and shivered a little in his embrace. She didn’t resist when he took her hand and led her away from the main group, back toward the dining hall.

“You okay?”

The slight quiver in her voice belied her words. “Sure, just a little shake. You?”

“Yeah, but we’ve got a problem. Eve recognized me.”

“Of course she did; you saw her yesterday and you just sat in the same room with her for two hours.”

“No, I mean she recognized me as Mon-El of the Legion.”

“Oh. That’s … not good.” Kara was silent for a moment. “Does she suspect me? I mean Kara, not Amira.”

“No idea. But maybe we should try to get ahead of her, give up your identity.”

“What? Are you kidding?”

“Not Supergirl,” he said, “your Amira cover story. I mean, she works at CatCo so it seems kind of natural to let her in on it anyway. And she’s probably not going to expect you to have _two_ secret identities.”

“True. But I think we’ve got bigger problems.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara and Mon-El try to untangle events at the retreat and their conflicting missions.

Discussion of their bigger problems had to wait until they were alone. For now they had to play the roles of a shaken-up Valerian (not too difficult, in Kara’s case) and her solicitous, if preoccupied, human fiancé.

Kara wasn’t the only one whose appetite had deserted her. After serving a lunch that almost no one wanted to eat, the retreat staff decided to cancel the afternoon sessions. A few couples stayed in the lodge, seeking the comfort of a larger group. Most headed for their cabins. 

She tapped Mon-El on the shoulder and he paused his conversation with Brian.

“I’m going back to the cabin, sweetie. No, finish your chat — I need a few minutes to myself.”

She saw the flash of worry in his eyes, saw him make the decision to let it come out in his voice. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Really, I’m fine.” She had to try harder not to let her worry show.

“Okay. See you in a few, babe.”

Alone in the cabin, Kara pulled out a notebook. Maybe writing down what she knew about the situation with Xiv and Eve and Mon-El would clarify things. She scribbled at near super-speed for a few moments, then found herself staring into space.

_What was she going to do?_

Eve was her friend. It didn’t feel right to let Mon-El somehow try to manipulate her, future timeline or not. And telling her his whole story would too easily lead to Kara’s story. Knowing that would be dangerous for Eve too.

_She needed Alex’s advice_. Kara picked up her phone, saw the “No Service” indicator, put it down again. 

Right. She was going to have to figure this one out herself. 

No. Not by herself. She had a partner here, who didn’t need her to be his mentor, who by all rights could be _her_ mentor. Someone who knew way more about time travel than she did. She could be unhappy about his mission, but she didn’t have to decide what to do about it alone.

Mon-El’s footsteps sounded on the cabin steps, breaking her reverie.

He looked at her curiously as he closed the door. She realized she’d forgotten to deactivate the image inducer. She switched it off and his eyes briefly lit up at the sight of her true face. Then his face sobered and the question on it was as plain as day: was she still angry with him?

She smiled the most reassuring smile she could and patted the sofa next to her. He sat down with something like a sigh of relief.

“So what do you think is going on?”

“I didn’t want to believe your story about Eve,” she said, “and I’m still not happy at the idea of interfering in their relationship, but there’s something about her fiancé.”

“Oh?” His voice was carefully neutral.

She looked up from her notes, tapped her chin with her pencil. “He kind of took over running the alien session. He was really interested in the details of everyone’s life, their species, seemed to be trying to steer the conversation in certain directions. I have a bad feeling about him.”

“Could he be a researcher or a reporter, like you?” 

“Maybe, but if he is, he’s not very subtle about it. Did you notice anything odd about him?”

“Last night at dinner, he was really quiet. He was scanning the room like he was anticipating trouble and wanted to know where the exits were.”

“We know lots of people who do that,” she objected.

“Most of the people we hang out with aren’t exactly typical civilians.” He paused, scratched his jaw. “He could be another time traveller. Sent by Brianiac, maybe trying to manipulate Eve somehow.”

Kara got up from the sofa to pace the length of the small room.

“Okay, so what do we do about Eve, that she recognized you?”

He groaned and rubbed his eyes. “Right.”

“What did you say to her?”

“I didn’t confirm or deny, just said we’d talk later. But I did do a speed-run around the room to make sure everyone was safe.”

Kara couldn’t stop a groan from slipping out. “Eve is sharp. If she was suspicious before, she’ll be even more so now.”

“Sorry.” He didn’t meet her gaze. “Do you think this puts her in danger?”

She sighed. “Well, neither Mon-El or Mike have been around here recently, so probably not. But if it leads her to Supergirl, that could be bad.”

“We’ll just have to make sure that doesn’t happen then.”

“Let’s leave it for now. Let’s leave all of this time-travel intrigue and this stupid assignment and … just…” She let the frustration seep into her tone. She sat down and he wrapped an arm around her.

“Just what?”

“I don’t know! I feel like I’m running on a treadmill, you know? I go to work and I write stories, and I go to the DEO and do what I can, but things never get any better. There’s always the next crisis, the next bad guy. I don’t have time to think about who I am, who I want to be. And I’m already too many people anyway: Kara Danvers, Supergirl, Kara Zor-El, although I hardly ever get to be her… except with you. I love being with you. But not knowing when we’ll see each other or for how long, when we might get to be together all the time…” Kara’s voice trailed off. She was just so _done_.

He brought his hand up to stroke her hair. “The weight of all these worlds. I know.”

She started to sniffle. He cupped her chin, turned her face to him, traced a cheekbone with his thumb. “I understand what that means, so much more now than when I first said those words to you. And you’re the reason I know.”

“I know you don’t like to be wrong, Kara, but you are wrong about this: things do get better. You make them better, every day. Not just by being Supergirl, Champion of Earth, or Kara Danvers, ace reporter. But by being you, Kara Zor-El who cares about everyone and always has hope. And you show other people, like a certain useless Daxamite—“ he grinned ruefully “—how to make things better, and how to love.”

He pulled her closer and murmured into her ear. “It’s okay to rest, though. To take off the cape for a little while. When did you last do that?”

She couldn’t remember. She mumbled something incoherent. He slid back from her.

“Turn around.”

“What?”

“Trust me. Stay right where you are, just turn and face the other way.”

Kara made a doubting noise but did as he asked. He placed his hands where her shoulders met her neck, wrapping long fingers over to her collarbones. His thumbs pressed into her trapezius muscles and stroked up her neck. She could feel the tension there dissipate and he moved his hands apart to massage over her shoulders. Moving his hands to grip her upper arms, he dug his thumbs into her triceps and fingers into her biceps. 

She sighed. “I forgot how good this feels.”

“More?”

“Please.”

His hands left her arms and met in the middle of her upper back. Pressing down, he slid them up and out over her shoulder blades. She pulled a pillow onto her lap and leaned forward. His hands stroked across her back, building a rhythm. She melted into the warmth of his touch.

His fingers must have started to cramp; he stopped to rest his palms on either side of her spine. She sighed again and sat up, wriggling back to press herself against his chest. She grasped his arms and wrapped them around herself, leaning back with hands holding his.

“Thank you,” she breathed.

“Anytime.”

They held that position, his arms around her, his warm scent drifting down, the sound of the wind in the trees outside. No heavy capes, nowhere else to be.

* * *

Saturday evening’s dinner was much quieter than Friday’s. A few groups chatted quietly, although their laughter seemed forced. A shared glance had Kara and Mon-El decide that their table mates’ spirits needed to be raised. Little did Kara know that Mike’s tactics for this revolved around teasing Amira about her cooking.

“There was the spaghetti that caught on fire in a pot of boiling water—”

“Hey, how was I supposed to know the ignition temperature was so low?”

“—and the gingerbread that ended up black—“

“I still don’t understand what a ‘Fahrenheit’ is.”

“—and the giant sourdough that nearly took over your kitchen.”

“Humph.”

Valerians don’t giggle so Kara had to hold herself back, but she was pleased to see that the others were dissolving into tears.

“Not growing up on Earth definitely cuts you extra slack, Amira,” Letitia said. “But my sister and I grew up in Metropolis and she has had some doozies.”

The human woman launched into a description of her sister’s culinary disasters, pulling out her phone to provide visual proof of the more unbelievable ones. Soon the table was roaring with laughter.

Kara watched Brian watch his fiancée as she told her stories. The expression on his face wasn’t easy to decipher, but his attention certainly seemed rapt. Had Mon-El ever looked at her like that? Would they ever get to a place where they could be so unguarded, so unworried?

Mon-El tapped her thigh and she turned to look at him. He tilted his head toward Eve and Xiv at the next table. Eve was looking at Xiv, but his gaze was elsewhere, again scanning the room. Kara briefly locked eyes with the Altainian; he acknowledged her by raising his eyebrows, then continued looking around. She shivered, just slightly. Mon-El felt her movement and wrapped an arm around her.

Kara noticed Eve shift her gaze to Mon-El. She gave him a knowing look and mimed removing glasses. He didn’t react. She tipped her head toward the door as if to indicate that they should leave their respective tables to have the talk he had promised. He shook his head very slightly and looked up at the wall clock. She nodded, with a sceptical expression on her face.

During all of this non-verbal communication, none of them noticed the alien doctor observing the dinner table intently, nostrils slightly flared. She patted her partner’s hand where it sat on the table in front of them.

The dinner drew to a close with dessert and hot chocolate. Kara couldn’t have either one —Valerians were allergic to chocolate— and Mon-El teased her again by making a production of enjoying his. _He’d pay for it later._

The organizers didn’t push participation in the planned game night. About half of the couples stayed in the dining hall, including Eve and Xiv. Kara and Mon-El followed Brian and Letitia out the door, bidding them good night as they headed back to their own cabin.

* * *

The wind had picked up and kept whipping Kara’s hair into her face as they ambled along the path.

“That was nice. I wonder if we’ll ever get to be that unguarded with people.” Kara couldn’t keep the sadness from creeping into her voice. Mon-El reached for her hand. She let him lace their fingers together and rub her thumb lightly with his.

His voice was sympathetic. “I know, it’s exhausting. But you do get to let your guard down with your family and friends. You have your game nights and dinners.”

“It’s not quite the same thing.”

“Lots of those people tonight were probably more on guard than they look. From what you’ve told me about the Children of Liberty, every identifiable alien in National City is probably on edge right now.”

“You’re right,” she sighed. “And I don’t have to use this thing to pass as human all the time. _That_ must be exhausting.” She turned off the image inducer as they stepped inside their cabin and sat down on the bed. 

“We have to figure out what to do about Eve.”

Mon-El sighed, took off his glasses, rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“I think we should just tell her everything. Who I am, why I’m here, what we know from the future. Not try to manipulate her, let it be her choice about what to do.”

“That kind of choice? Isn’t that too much to ask of her?”

“We both made that kind of choice.” His voice was low, pained.

“That’s different. _We’re_ different.”

“Are we? I mean, yes, we’re not human, we have powers. But that doesn’t mean we get to make all the hard decisions. Your sister, James: it took you a while, but you let them be heroes too.”

He was being older-and-wiser again. Her irritation spiked.

“You’re saying I don’t let people choose?”

He took a breath, let it out, spoke slowly.

“I’m saying … that you want to help people so much that you don’t always give them time to figure out what they need. Or how to help themselves. ”

“The same way you didn’t let me help when I was in the future with you?” Her words were coming more quickly and she could feel her anger rising along with her voice.

“Hey, you were the one who didn’t let _me_ help yesterday. You didn’t ask or even stay around long enough to let me offer.” 

“I said I was sorry for that, didn’t I?” she shot back.

“Kara, we have to trust each other. This can’t work if we don’t. I trust you.” His voice was softer now, almost pleading. 

“I’m trying. But how do I know you’re telling me the whole truth about what’s going on?” She regretted the words almost as soon as they came out of her mouth. She could see the hurt in Mon-El’s eyes as he turned away from her, jaw clenched, mouth a thin, hard line.

The silence stretched between them. Her mind whirled with things to say, things not to say; tears pricked at the back of her eyes.

He stood and pushed his glasses back on. “I’m going for a walk.” 

“Don’t walk away mad. Please, Mon-El.”

He didn’t really answer her. “Back in a bit.” The door clicked shut behind him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mon-El’s mission is rudely interrupted.

The brisk night breeze whistled in his ears and the stars glittered overhead as he walked away from the cabin. Had he messed this up, this long-distance whatever-it-was they had, pushed Kara away? Was he right to point out how she was sometimes overbearing? Was she right to point out how he’d kept things from her too often? (Did it matter who was right?)

The Legion’s time travel discipline wasn’t easy to break. But he had just argued to Kara that Eve deserved a choice in her future. He would talk to her, tell her why he was here. If he had to, confirm her suspicions about who he was, while protecting Kara’s identity. The decision about what to do had to be Eve’s. 

Other footsteps sounded on the gravel path and he heard the intense tones of a couple in heated conversation. No, not just one couple, but two: one voice male, two female, one indeterminate. The conversation seemed to be turning into an argument. 

“We’re not interested, thanks.”

“No, you don’t understand. We’re not asking you, not making you an offer. We’re telling you.”

“And we’re telling you, no. We don’t want anything to do with this.”

Better to hang back and listen, figure out what was going on, or just walk in and surprise them before the situation escalated?

One of the voices turned into a scream that quickly choked off and Mon-El’s decision was made. He took off toward the sound, at a speed still feasibly human. Approaching the knot of people behind the lodge building, he got a brief glimpse of two bodies on the ground.

A female voice hissed, “the Daxamite!”

His mind caught between finding the words needed to maintain his human identity and readying himself for a fight. The slight distraction was all it took for the taller of the two standing figures to move behind him. A slight pinch at his back, and everything went black.

* * *

Mon-El swam up to consciousness, still groggy. Eyes closed, he tried to shake the cobwebs from his brain and assess the situation while remaining motionless. He was sitting up, hands cuffed behind his back, legs shackled to a chair. His glasses were missing but the Legion ring’s slight weight on his right ring finger was reassuring. The room was cold, by human standards. He could hear water dripping but no obvious sounds of anyone else’s presence.

He tensed his muscles in preparation to break the cuffs and shackles. Only one shot at this if he was going to get the advantage of surprise. His eyes flew open to a darkened room lit only by the glow from a security lamp filtering through the window. He pulled at the bonds, and … nothing.

_Nth metal. Sprock._

So much for surprise. He took in his surroundings: an unused, unmaintained cabin. The room was empty except for him, the chair, and two bodies on the floor at the far end. Both were still breathing: unconscious, not dead. Their faces were turned away from him; from the skin color it seemed likely that one of them was Brian. The halo of dark hair made the other one Letitia. The dripping sound came from the rain outside, entering through the open window and beading onto the floor. The puddle under the window looked dark … _was that blood?_

The door opened to admit the human half of the doctor couple. 

_What_?? 

Mon-El fought the urge to blink and shake his head still as he tried to process what the woman’s appearance might mean. Had he been wrong about Xiv, missing clues because he’d been so focused on his mission and on Kara?

“Have a nice nap?” the woman sneered.

“I’ve had better,” Mon-El shot back. “So, what’s the story? Blackmail? Hostage? Did your goldfish die?” He’d been in enough of these situations to know that, eight times out of ten, the bad guy — or girl or other — just wanted to brag about how smart they were and that brag usually provided a way to defeat them.

“Not falling for that one, Daxamite. You can sit here and figure it out yourself, while your Valerian _girlfriend,_ ” the woman spat the word, “— who isn’t a Valerian — wonders what happened to you. And when she comes looking… then you can explain it all to each other. Before I…” She shut up, realizing that she was about to do just what she’d been trying to avoid.

“I see you’ve worked out that you’re not getting out of your comfortable seated position.” The doctor nodded at Mon-El’s bonds and pulled an injector out of her pocket. “Obviously, you’re sitting here breathing so you’re not allergic to aerosolized lead. But injecting it directly into your bloodstream is a different matter, isn’t it?”

She was right that a large enough dose of lead would disable or kill him, but there was no need to confirm that. Maybe it was an opportunity for a distraction. The doctor was right that Kara would come looking for him. He had to keep her talking while he fought to clear his head.

“If you were going to kill me, why wait for me to wake up? And why do it in front of them?” With his chin, he indicated the couple at the other end of the room. 

“Oh, we have better things to do than kill you. We’re just going to collect a little piece of you.”

The woman advanced on him with the injector and he stared her down. This was ridiculous. He was a Legionnaire and he was _not_ going to die tied to a chair like some twentieth-century movie damsel-in-distress. His shoulders strained as he tried — and failed — to touch the Legion ring with his left hand.

“You want a piece of me? What is this, some terrible gangster movie?”

“More like sci-fi. But not really. We just need some of your DNA.”

_Not again_ , he moaned inwardly.

“It’s not on offer,” he shot back.

“That’s why you’re immobilized.”

“And what about them?”

“They’re immobilized too. Anaesthetic.”

“Did you collect their DNA too?”

“I told you, Matthews — or whatever your real name is — figure it out yourself.”

He might be stalling, but she was too. She had him to rights. _Was what she waiting for?_


End file.
